


Storms In Her Heart

by Katherine_Queen_Of_Hell



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Anxiety, Caesar's Legion, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fear, Fluff and Smut, Legion-Aligned Courier, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-04-24 01:12:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14344860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine_Queen_Of_Hell/pseuds/Katherine_Queen_Of_Hell
Summary: A short exchange between Legion-Aligned Courier, Creed, and the fearsome Legate Lanius turns into something she would have never expected.





	1. Chapter 1

She'd seen the posters, heard the the rumors, and imagined with her own mind what he would look like. Never in her wildest dreams had she manifested… this. 

 

The Legate was a beast of a man, a monstrosity in both height and build. Though she couldn't see his face, she gathered that it, too, must match such imposing features that left her trembling in her worn boots. 

 

“So you are the woman Caesar had sent to lead us to victory?” He rumbles, the sound like thunder behind his mask. 

 

Creed swallows, gathering all her courage to speak firmly to him. “Disappointed, Legatus? Disappointed that a woman completed what a thousand Legionnaires couldn't?”

 

“Watch your tongue woman!” The soldier, a vexillarius, beside her barks, startling her slightly. “Know your place!”

 

The Legate, Lanius, brings his mighty armored hand up and strikes the vexillarius across the face. Creed hears a nearly sickening crunch and the man topples over, the whole left side of his features caved and spurting blood. Dead.

 

“Any woman,” Lanius mutters, more to the corpse than to her, “that has the courage to serve the Legion deserves the utmost respect. I'm sorry to see you didn't learn that sooner.” The golden helm turns in her direction, regarding her with stony, inhuman features. Creed can't see them, but she can feel the Legate’s eyes boring into her. “What rank do you hold, woman? 

 

Steeling herself to speak again, Creed squares her shoulders and angles her chin level with the floor. “Frumentarii. Under Vulpes Inculta, of course.” 

 

The other soldiers in the room, several Centurions and Praetorian Guard among them, begin to whisper quietly among themselves. It's no secret that they speak of her and definitely no secret they think Caesar allowing a woman to hold such a title is more than a little far fetched. 

 

Lanius chuckles, the sound low and eery behind his mask. “Pity your talents go to waste under Inculta. From the stories I've heard, you would be better suited under Lucius as a Praetorian.”

 

“I prefer the Frumentarii, being able to come and go as I please, to blend among the people of the Mojave who call me friend even as I bleed the Bear under their noses. It's quite endearing.” Truth be told, Creed was quite proud of her position just under Vulpes Inculta and likely soon to take his place, making her the fourth most powerful officer in Caesar's Legion. 

 

Again, Lanius chuckles. “Born to bleed and slaughter for the Legion, I see. Well, Courier, today you will have your chance. Today, the NCR will fall at Hoover Dam at the hands of a woman.”


	2. Chapter 2

Taking the Dam was easy. The Strip? Easier. 

 

The orders to move on New Vegas came shortly after Creed watched General Oliver die at her feet, choking on his own blood. Seeing the adrenaline and bloodlust still rushing in the glint of her silvery eyes, Lanius let the Courier take charge of his battalion. 

 

They marched across the scorch of the desert in the dying red sunlight and blew their way through the gates of the gleaming jewel of the Mojave, slaughtering anyone and anything that got in their way. Civilians, NCR soldiers, and securitrons littered the bloody road to victory. 

 

When they were through, Creed climbed her way to the top of the Lucky 38, a building that was discernible for miles, and planted Caesar's flag for all to see. 

 

The whole battalion stood witness and cheered with vicious glee when the deed was done, limbs flailing everywhere in celebration. Everyone broke out into motion except the Legate Lanius, who stood still as death with the face of his helmet cast upward toward her. 

 

Creed could see him from her perch atop the Lucky 38. She could see his armor glinting in the neon light from the Strip’s multiple casinos. She tried to imagine him without the mask and armor and in her mind's eye, she saw a big brutish man the size of a yao guai with a head of dark hair and a light dusting of it over enough muscle to make her blush. That's enough creative thinking for one day. 

 

Caesar arrived not long after the battle was truly one and gave a speech, declaring all of the Mojave his Legion’s new Rome and promoting Creed to Legate and giving her her own battalion. 

 

Afterwards, the Legion gathered its spoils and set up shop. Creed claimed the Lucky 38 for herself and made her way up to its luxurious penthouse to take a bath and go to bed. 

 

Now, early in the morning, she hears the elevator ding softly and heavy footsteps make their way across the balcony towards her bedroom. She would know who they belonged to anywhere. 

 

She can can picture him crossing the floor in that glimmering set of armor, still wearing the stony face of Mars. What’s missing is the sound of said armor clanking. The ominous tone that surely haunts the dreams of any of Lanius’ foes is absent. Creed only hears the shuffle of large feet.

 

The room is dark save for the dim slivers of moonlight shining through tattered satin curtains. She wants to move, to hide anywhere she can, but her body feels like solid lead. The heat she felt earlier while picturing the man approaching her returns to the deep pit in her stomach, now boiling hot and aching. 

 

His voice, unrestricted without the mask of Mars, calls from the dark of her doorway. “Courier?”

 

She's certain she squeaked when she heard the low, guttural tone of his voice, scratchy but smooth all at once. 

 

A laugh, soft and genuinely amused reaches her ears and suddenly, Creed can feel herself blushing. 

 

Those footsteps come ever so closer and she tries to hide, tries to run again, the instinct clawing at her insides, but she can't move. She can't get up and go no matter how bad she wants to because she wants something else more. 

 

Lanius’ weight sinks onto the bed and she can feel the heat of the Mojave radiating off his skin. Still, she doesn't move. 

 

“Creed… you know why I've come.” Is that… hesitation in his voice? Hesitation from the Terror of the West? “And a simple answer will send me away… or give me permission to share your bed tonight. Whatever you decide, I will not regret visiting you.” 

 

Creed chews her lip. She'd have to be mad to pass up a night with the great Legate Lanius, but… why? Why does he want her? Why does he ask her when he could have any slave or whore he chooses? Her mind reels with the possibilities until she hears him give a heavy sigh, clearly put off by her prolonged silence.

 

Lanius stands and starts to leave, but Creed’s hand reaches out to entwine with his own. “Stay,” she whispers, gently tugging on him to coax him back to her. He lets her pull him and move him to her will, leaning back against the headboard of her king size bed. 

 

Creed slides into his lap, thin tank top and underwear concealing nothing. Her hands explore the taught muscle of his body, the scars of battle, and the waiting arousal he flaunts so easily. 

 

It's not until hours later when the sun instead of the moon is shining through the cracks and the curtains, that the two of them are truly satisfied. 

 

Creed, still straddling Lanius, leans down to rest on his heaving chest, his softening cock still inside her.

 

“Wild, beautiful woman,” the Legate mutters, stroking hair away from her sweaty face. “Wanted you from the moment you stepped into the Legion.”

 

Creed smiles a little, closing her eyes for what she thought was only a moment, but turned into a deep, satisfying sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did my attempt at *light* smut go? Probably a trainwreck...


	3. Chapter 3

It took weeks, but like the Legion settling into its new Rome, Lanius and Creed settled into a peaceful routine. After completing their daily duties, they both make their way back to the penthouse and spend the evening enjoying each other before falling asleep wherever their ‘adventures' take them. 

 

On this such evening, Lanius and Creed are laying in front of the fireplace, staving off the chill of the penthouse with bright red flame. 

 

Lanius breaks the blissful silence reluctantly, unsure of how Creed will react. “Caesar has ordered that California will be our next target. My battalion moves out in the morning.” 

 

“...What?...” Creed breathes, sitting up to look him in the eyes. “Why? We've only just got settled here…” 

 

“You know the Legion never stays in one place for too long save Flagstaff. It's only my battalion anyway. You'll be staying here.” His voice rumbles like thunder in his chest, the familiar sound soothing Creed, but unsettling her at the same time now. 

 

“I won't let you go alone… perhaps I can persuade Caesar to let me--”

 

“You'll do nothing of the sort!” Lanius barks, a little more angrily than he'd like. “Not while you carry my child!”

 

Creed’s body tenses, out of fear or shock Lanius can't tell. She sits back, eyes wide but unseeing and distant. “How… did you find out? Arcade wasn't supposed to tell anyone…” She bites her lip. 

 

“I saw you coming from the medical tent,” Lanius says coolly. “Not only that but your body and your diet have changed. You are sick in the mornings as well. I notice more than you think.” 

 

The Courier-turned-Legate runs a hand through her hair, eyes casting down now. 

 

“Furthermore,” he continues, more nervous now, “I'd like to make you more than my lover… I'd like to make you my wife. I do not want my child to be born a bastard like half the common rabble. I do not want any other man to please you or touch you in the way I do. I want you to be mine and mine alone.” 

 

Again, Creed’s eyes go wide, this time fully aware and surprised. “You… you want to marry me?” She stutters. 

 

Lanius nods, the gesture sufficiently confirming his intentions. Creed smiles wide and throws her arms around him, knocking him back onto the floor. She kisses him in a tender, less impatient way than he's used to on nights like this. 

 

Gently, Lanius pulls his arms around her and holds her close to him, his large hands wandering along her skin as the kisses become more and more amorous. Creed moans softly under his ministrations, her body responding in kind to his touching and grasping. 

 

Suddenly, she breaks away for air, her face happy and flushed. “Did I say ‘yes’ yet?

/\/\/\

 

The wedding was hardly what Creed had always dreamed about, but she never expected to marry to begin with, so she couldn't complain.

 

Caesar himself oversaw the ceremony and a few officers, including Vulpes, attended to serve as witnesses. Hurried vows, a sultry kiss, and a quick visit to the nearest bed consummated their marriage. 

 

Afterwards, Lanius, with a heavy heart, leaves his new wife and unborn child to begin the long march to California.


	4. Chapter 4

3 months later…

 

Creed leans up from her hunched position over the table, rubbing her aching back as she looks over the maps of Nevada and its surrounding areas, eyes studying two places in particular: the Grand Canyon and a place known simply as the Divide. Both are potential conquests for Caesar and he's asked that she oversee their operations in both areas. 

 

The flap of her tent opens and chilly desert air rushes in from the dark. Vulpes steps through and closes the canvas again. 

 

“Legatus,” he says, nodding his head slightly in greeting. 

 

Creed returns the gesture. “Frumentarius.” 

 

Vulpes closes the space between them and stands at her side, draping a cloak over her shoulders to ward off the chill. 

 

“Any luck?” He asks. 

 

Creed shakes her head looking down. “I can see no clear way into the canyons besides this one.” She points to a passage between the mountains on the outskirts of New Vegas. “But there is no way we could move the Legion through there. It's too narrow. As for the Divide,” she sighs, crossing her arms. “None of our scouts have returned so we have no reports of what we'd actually be up against or what the terrain is like.”

 

“Sounds like the safest bet would be establishing ourselves in the canyon first.” Vulpes sits on the table, studying the map himself. “Reports coming out of there say it's inhabited by hostile tribes. None of the regular scouts would get near the camps and I can't send in the Frumentarii. They're too isolated. Outsiders would be noticed far too quickly to gather information.” 

 

“Agreed,” Creed responds, running a hand over her rounded stomach. “Looks like Caesar will have to wait a little longer to claim his prizes.” 

 

Vulpes’ face softens a little as he watches her caress her growing belly. In Lanius’ absence, he's taken it upon himself to be Creed’s helper, friend, and confidant while she works through her pregnancy. Surprisingly, he's found himself coming to care for her and the child that grows within. 

 

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly, standing and clasping his hands behind his back. 

 

Creed sighs heavily again, returning to the maps. “Tired… worried… it's been weeks since I've had a report or letter from California. I'm… beginning to fear the worst.” A chuckle draws her attention from the map to Vulpes, crystalline eyes like daggers. “What's so funny? Can I not worry?” 

 

“You are married to and carry the child of the legendary Legate Lanius.” Vulpes laughs a little louder. “And you FEAR for him as if some NCR profligate could even scratch his breastplate.”

 

“Vulpes,” She says, sagging into a chair near the table, face holding a defeated expression ghosting over her features. “I don't want my child to be without a father. It'll be hard enough growing up in the Legion and with no one to properly guide him or her... “

 

The Frumentarius briefly bites his tongue, stifling his laughter as nauseating guilt sets it. He'd gone too far with his teasing. He shuffles over to the woman he's grown fond of and squats down in front of her, taking her hands in his own. 

 

“He WILL come back,” Vulpes reassures, gently rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. “And you WILL be able to share every moment of your life and your child's life with him. Just… Give it time.” 

 

Creed's eyes move to meet his, hoping shining through the tears that have formed. She simply nods, unsure of what to say. 

 

Vulpes pulls the cloak around her tighter and coaxes her to stand, leading her out of the tent and back to her own.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
